


Little Stars and Glasses

by Valgus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Drama, F/F, Father-Daughter Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6996901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valgus/pseuds/Valgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How was your day at school today, Hi-chan?” Shouyou helped his daughter undo her bright red randoseru with a smile.</p><p>Little Hitoka’s brown eyes, inherited from her father, sparkled, “I had so much fun, Dad! I met a new friend. She’s amazing. Her name is Kiyoko-san. Oh, I also met Kiyoko-san’s father. He is really tall and his black hair is so pretty! And then, and then…”</p><p>Hinata chuckled as he lifted his daughter on his arms, as the little girl kept bubbling about her new friend’s handsome father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Stars and Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate universe in which, as you probably already guessed from the summary, Yachi is Hinata’s daughter and Shimizu is Kageyama’s daughter. This also implies that they had sex with woman before, as to why Yachi and Shimizu came into existence. So if you didn't feel comfortable with that, maybe this story is not for you.
> 
> Until the very end, I was unsure whether to use ‘Dad’ or ‘Otou-san’, because I kind of want to write Tiny Yachi calling Hinata ‘Otou-chan’ or something, which I know isn’t normal, but it’d be cute. In the end, since this story is written in English, I decided to use ‘Dad’. So if you were reading story set in Japan with Japanese character by imagining how would they say everything in Japanese like me, you know how Yachi called Hinata.
> 
> (And Shimizu totally called Kageyama ‘Otou-sama’ sometimes.)

“Papa.”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever regret having me sometimes?”

“…”

Kageyama Tobio was twenty-five years old when his six years old daughter asked him such incredulous question. They were laying together on his bed, on a Saturday evening after bath. Both on their sleeping attire and both exhausted from long weekdays of admitting the little dark haired girl to a local elementary school. Kageyama Shimizu sometimes squinted her eyes when she tried to see something far and Tobio wondered whether his daughter had already needed glasses at such a young age.

“Shimizu,” grunted Tobio, his hands reached to his daughter’s wet, shoulder-length hair to dry it. “Where did you hear question like that?”

Little Shimizu’s grey eyes widened a little, “Papa, you had me when you were nineteen and at the peak of your volleyball career. I might not be able to read some difficult Kanji, but I can read some hiragana and katakana. I can also listen what people say when you’re not around.”

Tobio sighed, but kept stroking his daughter’s hair through the thick, fluffy, pale blue towel.

Their apartment was quiet and bland in colour. Tobio chose the most neutral cold colour possible and Shimizu picked up the habit. Beside the time when Tobio cooked for Shimizu, the place always smelled like new furniture and freshly washed laundry, of detergent and a slight water smell on the air.

“So?” the little girl ascended and sat. “Have you ever regret having a six-years old child when you’re only twenty-five, Papa?”

And Tobio sat as well, before embracing his serious-faced little daughter to a gentle hug.

“Since the first time I knew I’m going to have you,” he stroked his large palm against Shimizu’s tiny, pajamaed back. “I’ve always been so thankful that you exist in this world, Shimizu. So never listen to what everyone else said about us. You make me a better person for I learn how to be a father and I love you very much.”

Shimizu breathed into his father’s embrace, “Thank God. I thought you’d get bored of me someday and then put me on an orphanage somewhere so you can enjoy your youth like people your age, Papa.”

Tobio chuckled and pulled back to see his daughter’s face, “Sometimes, I’m really worried with what the kindergarten teachers talked about in front of you.”

Shimizu sighed, “Sometimes, I have a feeling that they purposely talk in front of me, for most of them are woman, because you’re such a hunk, Papa.”

“… Shimizu?”

“Yes, Papa?”

“Please don’t use the word ‘hunk’ to describe me ever again.”

“Of course, Papa.”

*)*

Several blocks from the apartment of the Kageyamas, a little blonde girl lived with her red-haired father on top ramen of small ramen shop. Her father had always apologised to her on how they couldn’t afford better living place just yet. The ramen shop opened until late, so they would fall asleep to the sound of chattering and shop noises from downstairs. Not to mention, they were now already immune to ramen smell. The young father, only at the age of twenty-six, apologised and apologised to his daughter. The little girl never complained. She said she loved ramen and liked to watch people preparing the broth in the morning.

“We’re home,” announced Hinata Shouyou and Hitoka to a room full of people eating ramen.

It was a little after six. The ramen shop’s main chef, a blond and pierced man—who looked like a thug for his mean eyes, but unrivalled in making tastiest 400 yen a bowl ramen—greeted the odd pair with laughter.

“Welcome home, Shouyou and Hi-chan! Do you want some miso ramen tonight?”

Little Hitoka jumped up and down, her little pony tail on the left said of her head bobbed up and down with her, “Oh, yes, Keishin-kun! I want your delicious miso ramen!”

Shouyou, in stiff pale grey suit he rarely used, gave the blond chef smile, albeit feeling very tired, “May I have shoyu ramen, Kei-san?”

“Sure! Just go upstairs and clean yourself up. I’ll deliver your bowls myself later,” he smirked, before manoeuvring between two small tables, to deliver three bowls of ramen to three dejected looking college students in plaid.

Shouyou didn’t even have the energy to carry Hitoka through the narrow wooden stair towards their living space as usual. They just held hand as they descended the stairs slowly.

“Dad, let’s just sleep immediately after dinner, okay?” Hitoka squeezed his father’s hand.

“Yes. Thank you, Hi-chan.”

Hitoka gave her father a sun-like smile, “You’re very welcome, Dad!”


End file.
